I remember thinking of 40 as some distant trap. At 20 I wrote a rather insipid song about it, projecting myself forward twice the number of years I’d lived, thinking I’d be damn near decrepit by then. And yeah, my health sucked at that age, but little of it was due to truly natural causes. Stupidity of reckless youth caught up, overtook me.
Amsterdam has always been a magical, mythical place for me, a city of forbidden freedoms whispered about at home by daydreaming stoners with distantly-glazed eyes. I never thought I’d be here, but thanks to a little tech community volunteerism, Nokia has funded this adventure. I’ve just been elected to a council that will act as a proxy between the Finnish cell phone giant and its burgeoning open source developer community.
I couldn’t be more excited.
Well, more so stuff like joy, but a sympathetic hug now and then would be nice.
Unfortunately here I am another year later with only a single coffee-shop encounter behind me… and the only thing I’ll say about that one is that you never want to see a 53-year-old man regress to 15. And I never want to do it again.
According to family and friends I shouldn’t be having trouble. In theory I should be able to slide right into another relationship. I’ve tried and failed to verbally explain to friends and family why it’s been so difficult, so let’s see if blogging can get the points across. And they are legion.
The best way to do this, I think, is describe the unicorn– er, woman I would seek if I were still trying:
After years of ingesting and digesting some of the spiciest and gooiest substances known to man, it turns out I’ve developed diverticulosis. Not enough salad to balance the queso, I guess.
Along with this fun development my doctor suspects an H. Pylori as well as lung infection. Combined heartburn, bloating and bronchial spasms had recently sent me to the emergency room gasping for breath.
One more ailment and I think I qualify as a living lab experiment.
But it turns out that a great deal of what I’ve been experiencing can be traced down to a single root cause: deterioration in 2 cervical vertebrae that has caused nerve damage. The more I research, the more obvious it is that this deterioration goes back to bad posture and habits I had as a kid. Recent tests indicated that the problem is advanced and if not addressed soon, I may reach a point where it’s beyond solving. I may even become partially paralyzed, and lose the ability to swallow.
Therein lies my dilemma.
On a whim, she decided right then to start teaching me to read, and in short order unleashed the hack writer before you now.
Where would I go?